Today, as I refill the bird feeder wearing my snow boots and a short sleeve shirt, I remember a November day when my daughter was about 3 years old. She had on boots and a summer top as we were playing outside. The chill of November had all but vanished and (like today) the air was scented with the forgotten smell of spring. As a person who lives in a four season climate, I love every season, and the changes they bring. But I also love when it gets all mixed up like today. We are smashed with two feet of winter snows and then out of nowhere we get to remember the freedom of a warm sun. The black turtleneck gets tucked away and the pink linen shirt comes out to show off a bit.

Earlier today, I sat in worship at my sweet Quaker Meetinghouse. The silence was profound. Not one person spoke today (and I typically love what people say when they feel compelled to speak). There was one birdsong outside of the door, but the silence needed space, and everyone allowed it to breathe. Sometimes in that stillness, I pray for others. Sometimes my mind wanders to questions and wrestlings. And sometimes, I arrive at a clear opening where God wanders around and finally tells me something I need to hear. Today the words were so clear they made me jump. God said, “Say yes.” And then a bit later, God added, “Go with joy.” At first I thought that meant to go forward, hand in hand, with joy. But soon I realized that the second message was directly tied to the first. “Say yes to the path of joy.”

I think saying yes to paths of joy is sometimes like wearing winter boots with summer shirts. My daughter totally got it when she was three, and I remember at that time how I felt reminded that going with what makes you happy is really healthy. Somehow, I had forgotten that. And now today, it comes round again. Mary Oliver says, “Joy is not made to be a crumb.” And yet, so often we override joy with the seriousness of the day and the numbness of trying not to feel too much. (Which most often we are trying not to feel too much grief, but then we overcompensate by also not feeling too much joy and we are left… flat lined.)

I don’t want to be flat. Do you? I don’t want to forget that joy shows up unannounced, without her hair fixed or her lipstick on. She beckons us to let go, to show up, and to follow the tiny threads that make us lighthearted. Joy doesn’t have to make sense. She doesn’t have to be popular. She just wants to delight us, and when we say yes to her… something as wondrous and mysterious as a spring wind blowing across the cold snow, changes us.Let’s go gather our crumbs and say, “Yes.”

This week, for no good reason, I've been feeling lonely. I am really happy and fulfilled on the current journey. Life is exciting and new, but alongside of that has been this sad little story of feeling alone. And today, a headache showed up and slowed me down to a stop. In another life, I would be fighting and fussing over the single state of my life and arguing with the headache that I have no time for such nonsense. Now, however, I just say, "Oh! Hello. I'm sorry you feel sad and that your head hurts. Why don't you just come with me. I'll tend you while you are here. Let's make some steamy soup. That will taste good for dinner and smell good all afternoon."

Let's make some wishes by the Christmas tree before we take it out to the porch later.

Let's listen to some good music.

Let's invite our fingers to sensory creations that always bless the eyes, the touch, the heart and soul.

And, then, let's close our eyes while we cup the light and say some prayers. God, keeper of all that is tender and fragile and unexplainable... hold us and mend us in this moment. Thank You for making something good from times that seem such a struggle. We are blessed to be together, growing life, and growing deeper understandings of self and soul. Amen.

The sky is brightening this morning in hues of deep pink, red, and orange. It hasn’t been given instructions. It’s not waiting for us to tell it to let up on the orange or add some purple. It is unfolding in a natural, unguarded way, and will do so whether we notice it or not. It really isn’t about applause or accolades. The sky is simply doing what it will because this is what it does.

Maybe we need to live closer to sky revelations. Maybe we need to offer ourselves so purely that light spills out upon everyone we meet, and we gift them with ourselves whether they recognize us or not. And maybe we need to worry so much less about how we could be or ways we could improve or if we measure up to someone else’s palate of expectations… and instead, fall with ease into the soft well of who we are.

I think the One who dreamed up sky also dreamed up you and me. I can imagine that in the heart of God, all that was ever yearned for was for each of us to be happy being who we are… you know, the peeled back version that is free of critique and inadequacies. If we lived like the sky, if we practiced listening more carefully to our own holy intuitions, wouldn’t our world naturally find release?

This day, may we each put down what we are not and with a cleansing breath, embrace the true beauty of who we are. I can hear the sky laughing with delight as we do. Be free. Be alive. Be you.

I stepped out into the cold morning air on this first day of January, and I leaned my ear towards the mountains and bent my face toward the sky. I could feel the presence of the Divine as surely as I felt the chill of winter air. And in the silence of this first day of a New Year, here is what came for me and for you:

You can only see your face by way of a mirror. Let me be your mirror today. Let me show you the beauty that I see, the beauty that I know to be deeper than your skin and more powerful than your thoughts. Let me show you the goodness I see in your eyes, the kindness in your smile, and the glow of grace that rests always on your brow. Put your face towards me, my child, that I may show you how true beauty appears.

You are enough. You do not need to achieve greatness, for you were gifted with greatness when you were born. Go back to that. Go back to innocence and trust and joy. Listen from within and let go of the voices that harp at you to be more. Those voices heap chains while the voice within frees the dancing spirit. You can love yourself into the fullness of life.

Happiness builds happiness. Gratefulness builds gratefulness. Kindness builds kindness. Generosity builds generosity. Love builds love. You are a master builder gifted with every needed tool to bless and to heal. You can create what you dream and what the world dreams. (And remember that the children are watching, absorbing, and emulating what and how you build.)

You are the giver of peace. You wear peace around your shoulders like a friend who drapes you in her embrace, and you offer that same embrace to the world around you. Like raindrops upon dry land, you welcome peace, you carry peace, and you continue the promises of peace. And I thank you for that, my dear, dear child.

I love you. I love you and those you love and those you struggle to love. I have wishes on this first day, too. I wish so much that we could all come together and lean our ears toward the mountains and our faces towards the sky. And I wish we could watch the sun rise over those mountains to bless a new day with light. That light reflects from me to you and then it reflects in you towards others and all of that beauty reflects back to me. It is glorious, this life, and I promise you, pinky swear, that the light that rises each day is rising in you to cast out shadows, to show the way, and to grow the gardens of blessing.

Heaven is here, in this place, in this time as surely as light folds over the mountains. Happy first day. Happy New Year. Amen.